


The Salt of Crait

by Vivien



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 15:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivien/pseuds/Vivien
Summary: Kylo Ren feels nothing and tastes salt.





	The Salt of Crait

**Author's Note:**

> A flash fiction drabble written for the prompt "Salt" out of sheer determination fir the author to get words out of her brain and onto the page in a semi-timely manner.

As the Millenium Falcon's ramp door closes, removing Rey's stern and hurt face from his view, Kylo Ren tastes salt.

It’s this damned planet, he thinks, swiping at his wet eyes with one gloved hand. He stays where he is, on his knees, as his lower lip trembles. His troopers can see only his back, and that’s how he needs it to be. For just a moment longer.

His stomach clenches, and he stares into the middle distance at nothing. He remembers the touch of Rey’s fingers, how warm the fire was that night.

She’s gone. Forever. And what is he left with? Ultimate power. What he thought he always wanted, up until the Force connected him with his beautiful, furious scavenger girl.

He stands, the blood rushing to his head, pounding in his ears as he hears the stormtroopers’ armor shift. He should feel triumphant. Or, at the very least, sad. Her face had been so grim.

Kylo Ren feels nothing. He is numb, through and through. He is also the Supreme Leader. For a fleeting moment, he envisions a galaxy made better – order and peace, public works undertaken to make up for what has been lost in war – but then his stomach clenches again, and the dark nothingness coils around him, protecting him from outside harm as it has ever since he was a small, scared boy with a voice crooning in his head.

A voice forever stilled.

He turns to face his troops, his eyes dry. The taste of salt lingers on his tongue as he orders them back to their shuttle. He is done here.

Before he steps into the brightness of Crait, he lingers in the shadows of the old Rebel base. He won. He has all the power, all the possibility.

He shudders and then stands up straight. He strides onto the battlefield of his meaningless victory and wishes for his mask.


End file.
